


A Walk Through the Woods

by Nanenna



Series: Faetale [5]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Aphrodisiacs, Beware the Fair Folk, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Do not post to another site, Do not repost, Dubious Consentacles, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Tentacles (Undertale), Ectobiology, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Oviposition, Possessive Behavior, Power Imbalance, eggshot, help! there's plot in my porn!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanenna/pseuds/Nanenna
Summary: While on a walk through the woods Sans stumbles onto something unusual: a group of monsters he'd never seen before having a party. He's about to back out and leave them be when he's spotted and invited in. Well it would be rude to refuse such a generous invitation.
Relationships: Grillby/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Faetale [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1387504
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	A Walk Through the Woods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skerb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skerb/gifts).



> This fic dedicated to Skerb, who first came up with the idea of hot eggs and the rest of us will be forever grateful for. Happy birthday, Skerb! Please enjoy!
> 
> Let's see how many rules of dealing with the fae Sans breaks.

Sans hummed to himself as he wandered down the forest path. It was a pretty relaxing way to spend the afternoon, just be out for a leisurely stroll through the woods just outside their town. Out in the fresh air, the trees shading him from the harsh summer sun, away from their small house and the bustle of town, just him and his thoughts for a little while. Thoughts like, “Oh look! Edible flowers, those will make a nice tea.” Of course Sans brought along a basket with him on these walks, it pays to be prepared to bring home any neat finds while out for a little wander.

Just as Sans straightened up from picking a few flowers something flashed in the corner of his vision. He turned and looked around him. At first he didn’t see anything, but then there it was again, another bright flash. He ambled towards it to find a thin foot path leading off the main road he was currently sticking to. It rounded a corner shortly into the trees and he couldn’t see where it led, but there seemed to be something glowing just around the bend.

Sans couldn’t remember having ever seen that path before, but it wasn’t like he came out here regularly or often. So long as he stayed on the path he should be able to find his way back, plus it wasn’t like this portion of the woods was even big enough to get lost in and he was curious. What was flashing in the woods? Had someone lost something shiny? A confused firefly? Or maybe something more _mysterious_? Sans chuckled quietly to himself as he stepped onto the side path.

He rounded the corner to find a little fireball about the size of an egg lazily trailing through the air low to the ground. It didn’t seem to notice him as it wandered back and forth over the thin, winding path. Sans ambled after it, now too curious to simply turn back. It was temping to just stop and go back to foraging, as he followed the little fireball he passed by a bush overflowing with ripe berries, a tree sagging under the weight of the ripe fruit covering its branches, and even a log so covered in mushrooms Sans could only guess it was a log. But the little fireball was moving steadily forward and Sans figured he could grab some things on his way back to the main path. Sans thinks the little fellow must have seen him, it sped up to what most people considered a normal walking speed and Sans called a brisk pace.

Eventually he rounded a particularly tight turn and instead of a path twisting through more dense trees he found himself stepping out into a glade. It was about the size of the town square, with only a few saplings dotted here and there and a large granite boulder in the middle. The fireball he was following had drifted a short ways into the glade and Sans, still curious, followed after it. The little ball drifted over a scattered line of mushrooms not far from where the path petered out, just past the treeline. It settled into the short grass on the other side, then just vanished. Sans stepped up to the mushrooms, absently noted they made a kind of wobbly circle, and stared at where the fireball had vanished. That was so weird, it didn’t even leave behind a puff of smoke, where had the little thing gone? Had it gone out? Was it just under a leaf? A hole in the ground? Well he’d just take a quick look where the fireball vanished, see if it left behind a trace, then head back to the main path and do some more foraging on the way.

Sans carefully stepped over the mushrooms and crouched down to see if he could find a trace of the fireball. Nope, nothing. Weird, but he gave a shrug and stood straight. He was about to turn around and find his way back when he noticed the glade was full to bursting with monsters. Sans didn’t know how he hadn’t heard the drums, flutes, and fiddles being played somewhere nearby, nor how he didn’t see the bright glow being emitted by so many fire monsters all gathered in one place.

Before he could slink back into the trees and keep from disturbing these strangers’ party, a few of them looked up and noticed him. They raised their hands excitedly in greeting and came running up, giggling the whole way.

“Hello! Hello! Welcome, come join us!” A bright green fire monster in a simple dress Sans would expect a shop girl to wear said excitedly.

“Yes, yes, come join us!” Another fire monster in a simple dress, this one’s flames a shade of red that was almost pink and likely had nothing to do with temperature, said as they skipped over to Sans.

“oh, i wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

“Nonsense! The more the merrier!” The pair each grabbed an arm and pulled him further into the clearing. They led him right over to a table overflowing with all manner of sweet treats glistening with a sugar glaze or honey and portioned into tiny little bite sized pieces. One of the fire monsters took Sans’s half filled basket right out of his hand and tucked it under the table.

“There, for safekeeping.” They threw in a wink before spinning away, laughing like they just heard the greatest joke.

“Have fun, come dance with me later,” the green fire monster said with another giggle before rushing off themself.

Sans looked around in wonder at all the brightly glowing fire monsters, he’d never met or even heard of such a thing before. The closest he could think of were fire elementals, but such rare and powerful monsters wouldn’t come all the way to their small town between two large cities, they preferred the deep woods where they held a court all their own. Or so the legends went. These monsters with their simple, modern clothes, instruments, and foods didn’t fit the descriptions of ancient, wild, fae beings at all.

Sans shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered out into the party, he was here so he may as well have some fun before heading home. The fire monsters all flickered and whirled around him, a dizzying array of colors from sour apple green to palest lavender to even a bright pink one he’d seen out the corner of his eye socket, but most were in shades of warm oranges, yellows, and golds. The flames all stared, but Sans figured if he were at a gathering of skeletons and saw a single flame randomly show up he’d probably stare too. A few giggled to each other from where they lounged in the shade along the glade’s edge, while others ran laughing up to Sans to pull him further into the whirling party.

They led him right to some kind of canopied tent with its gauzy white and blue curtains pulled aside to drape artistically. Within the shadows of the tent, lounging against shimmery, silky looking cushions, a bright blue and white fire monster sat. Unlike the other monsters’ wavering, flickering flames, this one’s seemed to stand up straight and tall. They smiled when they saw Sans, a blinding slash of white that split their face wide open. They beckoned him closer and Sans followed their call, stopping just inside the tent’s entrance. They held out a hand, sitting delicately on top was a puffy pastry topped with slices of glistening fruit and a dollop of whipped cream that looked fresh and perfect despite the searing summer heat.

Sans shook his head. The flame in the tent didn’t seem offended, simply nodded and waved him on. Sans turned around and went back to join the party. It seemed him meeting whoever was in the tent was some kind of initiation, he was practically swarmed by eager fire monsters and little crackling fireballs after that. He had to chase the fireballs out of his clothes a few times, the little things seemed friendly and to have no idea about personal boundaries. Sans wondered if they were children, there was certainly the laughter of children echoing through the glen despite him not spotting any. The adult flames seemed to almost fight over his attention, he found himself getting dragged off by one or another to be asked eager questions and offered more sweets or pulled out to where a ring of flames were running, dancing, leaping, and just generally cavorting in a circle around a lone granite boulder in the center of the glade.

Sans laughed and let himself be dragged this way and that, telling a few jokes here and there the few times he was given space to breathe. A quick glance at the sky showed it was only noon, he still had some time to hang out before he needed to start home. Strange, though, Sans was fairly certain it had been past noon when he’d spotted that first fireball. He thought maybe that should be alarming, but couldn’t muster up the energy for it.

A pair of flames with arms over each others’ shoulders and overflowing tankards in their hands bumped drunkenly into Sans, offered him their tankards, then stumbled away while singing at the top of their lungs after Sans refused. A yellow flame slung an arm over Sans’s shoulder and pulled him close before offering some lavender cookies. Sans didn’t like them being so handsy and wriggled out of their grasp. A reddish orange flame pulled him down to sit next to them in the grass, hands trailing over his humeri and tibiae. He was already getting up even as they held out what looked to be a flaky dinner roll glistening with melted butter. Another pulled him into the ring to dance, holding hands as the flame monsters on either side pulled him around in dizzying circles. Another pulled him out and let him flop onto the grass where he laughed and tried to get his skull to stop spinning. Rather than pay attention to the slice of pie they offered, he was sure Mrs. Dreemurr’s were better, he glanced at the sky again.

Still noon. That was strange, it had felt like at least an hour had gone by, maybe even two. Then again maybe it felt longer because there was just so much going on around him, a great whirlwind of beating drums, pounding feet, laughter, too familiar hands, and so much food.

A deep violet flame sidled up, this one sharply dressed in a suit cut in the latest fashion, the shimmery material dyed deepest black, a gold chain leading to a pocket watch, and gems the same shade of violet as his flames sprinkled liberally over the whole thing. Sans was a little impressed, he clearly had plenty of G to throw around on an outfit like that.

“… hello there.”

“hey there, hot stuff. you seem like a pretty chill guy.”

The violet flame chuckled, “… why thank you. But you must be hungry, have you eaten yet?”

Sans shrugged, “not yet, haven’t seen anything that really catches my fancy.” And he hadn’t brought anything to the party. Sans wasn’t usually one to care about social norms and manners, but something just didn’t feel right about accepting these strangers’ hospitality without some way to pay for it.

The violet flame’s face split into a wide, jagged, jack-o-lantern smile as they pulled out a plate with two fat sausages on it, still faintly sizzling and glistening with grease. Sans had to admit it was pretty tempting, it was the first substantial piece of food he’d seen the whole party.

“Come dance with me, you promised!” The lime green flame that first pulled him into the glade ran over and pulled Sans up by his arm.

Sans laughed, “i don’t remember promising, but alright.”

The green flame led him twirling and skipping back into the ring, then out again on the other side. They danced and twirled some more, Sans laughing and stumbling along after them until they reached the far edge of the glade. Sitting in the shade of the trees leaning against a rock was a golden orange flame. Their bare feet were laid out in the sun, the rest of them glowing warmly in the dappled shade.

Sans more wheezed than laughed as he plopped onto the ground next to the golden flame, leaning against the other side of the rock from them. “that’s enough dancing for me, i'm all tuckered out!”

The green flame winked one of their coal black eyes, then went twirling off again, laughing as they went back to the ring. Sans noticed the first non-flame monster he’d seen since arriving dancing in the ring, as he watched the green flame pulled the non-flame monster out of the ring and dragged them away, probably to give them a break too.

“………………………”

“hm? didn’t quite catch that.”

“… hello.”

“hey, nice to meet you.”

“… Grillby. And your name?” Grillby held out his hand to Sans.

Sans took the hand and gave it a quick, firm shake. “they call me sans, sans the skeleton.” He threw in a wink for good measure.

“… accurate.”

“no bones about it.”

Grillby’s face split open in a crescent moon smile as he laughed softly, the sound more like the crackling of a warm hearth fire than anything else.

Sans looked his new friend over. Grillby had on a pair of round pince nez glasses, a white undershirt with the sleeves rolled up, a half buttoned black vest with delicate pin striping, and matching black trousers. Something about him gave off this really classy air, like Sans wasn’t supposed to be seeing him half dressed and shoeless like this.

“… so what brings you here?”

“oh, was just out for a walk in the woods.”

Grillby just nodded in response.

Sans relaxed against the rock a little more, glad to finally be resting after whirling around for the last… however long it’s been. The sun was still high so it couldn’t have been that long, even if he felt exhausted. He always felt exhausted so that didn’t mean much. “sometimes you find some really neat things in the woods, even while sticking to the path,” Sans eventually commented. “i guess a lot of people just lose things while traveling,” he continued, rambling about some of his more interesting finds or the few things he had gathered that… well he guessed it was the morning since it was only noon.

Grillby just nodded and crackled soothingly away, Sans thought he was a really great listener. A few other flames came over and tried to pull Sans away, but Grillby told them to let him be. Sans was pretty grateful, he was still feeling pretty worn out even if he’d gotten his breath back.

“… seem tired,” Grillby commented after they’d been talking for… a while. Really, it couldn’t still be noon and yet the sun had barely moved. They had lapsed into a companionable silence before Grillby broke it with his astute observation. He held a hand up like he was about to touch Sans’s face, but paused.

Sans leaned into the touch, Grillby’s hand delightfully warm against his bone. “yeah, getting run back and forth out there left me bone tired.”

“… perhaps some refreshment?” Grillby held a plate out to Sans, sitting primly in the center was a perfectly cooked hamburg steak, its grease glistening in Grillby’s gentle light. The whole thing, along with what to Sans looked like a small salad, was sandwiched between two thick slices of toasted bread. The whole shebang honestly looked amazing, almost irresistible.

“oh uh, wow! thanks, this looks really, really good.” Sans glanced up at Grillby, who had another crescent moon smile, then carefully picked up the sandwich. His first bite was heavenly, the food just melted in his mouth and absorbed smoothly into his mana, seeming to warm him from the inside out. Sans’s eye sockets fluttered shut as he made the most sexual sound he’d ever made, and that included during actual sex!

When he opened his eye sockets again Grillby was still smiling at him, looking quite pleased with himself if the shots of pale yellow and creamy whites running through his golden flames was anything to go by. Grillby pushed Sans’s drooping hands up, “… go on, have some more. I’m quite flattered.”

Sans took another bite, it somehow tasted even better than the first. After taking another moment to savor the food, what Grillby said clicked. “you made this?”

“… yes, I made it myself.”

“it’s really, really, _really_ good.” Sans took another bite and moaned at the taste. He had no words for how good it was. “the best thing i've ever eaten.”

Grillby just smiled all the wider, a few sparks popping off with happy crackles. Sans just concentrated on finishing his meal, slowly savoring it as he made sure to enjoy every bite. Eventually, no matter how slowly he ate, he got to the last bite. Then the last half bite. Then he was licking the crumbs and grease from his fingers for good measure. When he was done he leaned back against the convenient rock, feeling stuffed full to bursting and fuzzily pleased. His head lolled to the side so he could smile over at Grillby, who was smiling down at him wider than ever.

“what?”

“… am just pleased you enjoyed it.” Grillby reached over and swiped his thumb along Sans’s mouth, then put the thumb up to his own mouth.

Sans followed the thumb, like he was desperate for another taste of that glorious sandwich. His teeth connected to Grillby’s flat, featureless face. Hot sparks erupted between them and seemed to tingle along Sans’s ley lines. Grillby’s mouth opened and something hot and pliable pressed against his teeth. Sans opened his own mouth, already forming a tongue of his own to meet Grillby’s. The great thing about magic is just how versatile it is, when Sans was greeted with not one tongue but at least three he quickly formed more of his own.

Grillby pulled Sans close, arms wrapped around him as the kiss continued to deepen. Sans was okay with that, climbing into Grillby’s lap as their tongues continued to writhe and slide over each other, their magics sparking and tingling wherever they touched. Grillby’s tongues seemed to overflow, winding down where Sans’s throat would be only to curl under his mandible and lick up the side of his face. Sans distantly wondered if this was what kissing a hearth fire was like.

Sans wound his arms behind Grillby’s neck, pressing himself as close to the other as he possibly could. Grillby seemed to take that as his cue to start feeling Sans up, tracing individual bones through his clothes, deft fingers searching out all the little dips and notches along his spine down to his coccyx and iliac crests, pulling needy little whines out of Sans.

Grillby pulled back, breathing heavily. Sans whined pitifully and chased after him, but a pair of firm, warm hands on his crests held him in place. “… someplace more private?” Grillby asked softly.

Sans pressed his face to Grillby’s shirt and breathed his smokey scent in, then nodded desperately. Somehow despite the pounding music and peals of laughter he’d forgotten there was a raucous party happening just a few yards away, anyone could just look over and see them.

“… can you walk?”

Sans nodded again, then reluctantly pushed off Grillby to try standing. His knees felt a little wobbly, but he managed. Grillby stood next, then offered a hand for Sans to take. Sans gratefully took the hand, leaning heavily on Grillby as he let himself be guided away from the party, across that corner of the glade, and through a gap in the undergrowth into the woods beyond. Sans panted heavily as he tripped after Grillby, feeling like he was burning up from the inside out. A short ways into the woods they came across another clearing, this one positively tiny. It was really just enough space for the canopied tent taking up most of the clearing. It was almost identical to the one Sans had seen earlier, but rather than blinding white this one had curtains in shades of gold and saffron. With his free hand Grillby quickly untied the curtains and let them fall over the opening, though there was still a sliver of a gap.

Grillby pulled Sans into the tent, Sans barely spared a glance at the shimmering pillows, too focused on the way Grillby’s gentle light seemed so much brighter and warmer in the small, dark space. Sans was mesmerized by his flickering flames and the warm light reflecting off the tent material overhead. Grillby gently pushed Sans down, then loomed over him, the combination of his flames obscuring his face and the light glinting off his glasses made his expression unreadable.

Grillby leaned down and pressed kisses to Sans’s neck, the contact tingling and sparking as his tongues licked over the nearby bones. Sans arched up into the kisses, enjoying the attention being paid to him. Desperate for something to do, Sans reached up and clung to Grillby’s shirt, feet squirming as he gasped and moaned.

One of Grillby’s hands wormed its way under Sans’s shirt, the path made easy by the sloppy way he only ever half tucked them in. Sans couldn’t take it anymore and pulled Grillby’s face up to his own. “kiss me already!”

“… already am,” Grillby purred cheekily as he gave a few little nibbles to Sans’s mandible. Then he complied with Sans’s request, eagerly delving back into Sans’s willing mouth. Sans happily drank Grillby’s heat in, twining his own tongues with Grillby’s even as he arched up into the hand exploring his ribs.

It seemed Grillby got annoyed with Sans’s shirt, he pulled away, causing another pathetic whimper from Sans, to start unbuttoning his waistcoat. Yes, grand idea! Sans was torn between helping Grillby get him out of his own clothes or trying to get Grillby out of his. The decision was taken out of his hands when Grillby tried to pull his shirt off. Sans had to shimmy and lift himself up so Grillby could get the shirt and everything else off, tossed carelessly aside. Sans lifted his hips so Grillby could remove his trousers, his socks followed shortly after. Once Sans was completely (heh) sans clothing, he reached for Grillby’s buttons and clumsily started undoing them. His darn phalanges kept fumbling the fiddly little things, but Grillby only laughed and pulled Sans’s phalanges up for a quick kiss before simply undressing himself.

Now finally free of their clothes, Sans lay back and just stared up at Grillby, admiring the play of orange, gold, and yellow flames. Grillby seemed to be doing the same, gaze still hidden behind his glasses as he looked down at Sans. The crescent moon smile reappeared and a tongue came out to lick over it before Grillby dived down, tongues licking eagerly over Sans’s ribs and sternum. Sans gasped and arched again, the magic sparking over his bones almost too much to bear. Then a hand was inside his rib cage, delicately feeling over every single bone and the sensitive spaces between them Grillby could find.

At first Sans flailed, unsure what to do with himself, then he found Grillby’s upper arms and latched on, clinging for dear life. He wanted to touch, to feel, to map out every inch of the fire monster over him, but with the way Grillby was still tasting his ribs Sans couldn’t reach. He settled for moving his hands up to Grillby’s head and burying them in the flames there. The hand inside his rib cage moved lower, dexterous fingers exploring his vertebrae as Grillby’s tongues dipped between his ribs and curled around them.

“please!” Sans gasped out, not even sure what he was begging for. “please, please, please!”

Grillby kissed and licked his way back up to Sans’s face, then was looming over him again. “… please what?”

“i… you… more. pleeeaaaase!”

“… can arrange that.” Grillby sat back, moving off Sans entirely.

Sans whimpered and held his arms out, “no, come back!”

“… I’m here.” Grillby lifted Sans into his arms, helping him scramble across his lap and pulling him into another searing kiss, this one no less deep than the others. One arm curled around his back, the hand attached reaching up to stroke the inside of Sans’s rib cage, the other hand curiously explored Sans’s ilia and pubis. Magic gathered in a soft haze that followed Grillby’s hands wherever they went, his Soul coiling ever tighter as it seemed to glow hotter and hotter.

Sans tried to return the favor, he wanted nothing more than to run his hands over Grillby’s chest, arms, back, maybe run them down to where Grillby’s pants used to be. Sadly with his legs draped across Grillby’s lap and his spine twisted so he could lean into the kiss the best he could do was cling awkwardly with one arm while his feet slipped and skidded over the pillows around them, unable to find purchase as he squirmed and whined.

Grillby pulled away, though his hands continued to tease, “… was that? Do you have something to say?”

“stop teasing already,” Sans panted still squirming under Grillby’s warm hands. They only seemed to fuel that fire that was burning through his ley lines and licked at his Soul.

“… ready for more?” Grillby asked with a teasing lilt to his smoky voice.

“yes, more! please!” Sans shamelessly begged.

The moment Grillby’s hands left Sans’s personal space the magic that had been gathered in a thick haze rushed to finally fill out as ecto-flesh. It laid heavy in his pelvis and filled out to a formation he’d never tried before: a ring of relatively small, squirming tentacles around an entrance between his legs.

Grillby turned Sans to face out, his spine pressed to Grillby’s chest, his legs spread on either side of Grillby’s lap. One arm across Sans’s ribs held him firmly against Grillby, his heat delightfully searing into Sans’s spine, the other hand reached down to inspect Sans’s eager entrance, he could already feel the tentacles reaching for that warmth. “… not quite enough,” Grillby murmured as his hand came to rest at the edge of his ecto, just out of range of Sans’s reaching tentacles.

Then Grillby’s hand glided upwards and, as if yearning to be under his touch, Sans’s ecto sprang into existence and spread out from Grillby’s hand until he had glowing blue pseudo-flesh spanning from his ribs down to his femurs. Grillby crackled happily as he pressed his hand into Sans’s new squishy middle. “… can’t stuff you if there’s nothing to fill.”

Sans’s empty core clenched, his ring of tentacles all curled and a few even dripped with the slick drooling from his entrance. “you said you’d stop teasing me,” Sans accused, wanting nothing more than to turn around and ride Grillby into the pile of ridiculous pillows.

“… said no such thing,” Grillby murmured before bending his head down to attack Sans’s clavicle with fiery kisses. Then Sans felt burning hot tentacles curl around the tops of his femurs or twist and wind with his own.

Sans gasped and ground into the touch, his own tentacles happily twining with Grillby’s or wrapping around his legs too. And then one tentacle prodded tentatively around his weeping entrance. Sans’s tentacles not tangled up in Grillby’s eagerly wrapped around the probing one and guided him in.

Grillby groaned and let his head drop onto Sans’s shoulder, “… really sucking me in, feels so good.”

The tentacle gave a wriggle, Sans tensed up. “aw shit, do that again.” Sans’s request was obliged. “oh fuck.”

“… is what we’re doing.”

Sans couldn’t help laughing at that, leaning back into Grillby’s chest for support before cutting off in a gasp as Grillby wriggled again. His back arched as he pressed back, then he tried lifting his hips.

Their tentacles were still wound so tightly together he couldn’t move at all. Grillby put his hands on Sans’s hips and pressed him back down. “… going somewhere?”

Their tentacles wound together more tightly, locking Sans in place. He whimpered, “wanna move, wanna ride you. please, oh please!”

“… perhaps next time.”

That was a tantalizing thought, Sans liked the idea of a next time.

“… just relax.” Grillby’s hands started moving, one drifting down to tangle in the mass of Sans’s tentacles that weren’t twisted up with Grillby’s, the other roamed up to map out every dip and curve of Sans’s ribs. Sans closed his eyes and let himself relax into Grillby’s embrace, tilting his skull ever so slightly to give Grillby more room on the clavicle he was nibbling. Sans’s own hands did some roaming of their own, blindly feeling around until he found Grillby’s legs and pressed eagerly into them, the flames there happily licked the spaces between his fingers and metacarpals.

That’s when Sans felt the first bulge. He wasn’t sure what it was, at first thinking it might be a knot. Was Grillby really about to cum already? Before even moving? But instead of growing it started moving up, then another bulge followed closely behind. Not a knot, eggs. Sans felt a sharp stab of cold panic that quickly faded under a blanket of soft, warm calm. He should be worried about something, but he couldn't think what. It was so hard to focus with Grillby’s warm hands roaming his body, his tongues licking over Sans’s neck, the eggs hot and heavy and wide pressing against his walls as they traveled up to pop into place and settle heavily in his pelvis. Sans was close.

“… not quite yet.” Grillby pulled his entangled hand away. Sans’s tentacles, slick with the natural slime all tentacles seemed to just emit, slipped off despite how desperately they clung.

Sans whined in disappointment. The kisses and curious exploration of his ribs stopped too, Grillby’s hands moved to cradle either side of Sans’s belly where the pressure was still growing.

“… look how full you are.”

Sans obeyed, looking up to see a standing mirror practically at their feet. He wondered where it came from, he was fairly certain that hadn’t been there when they’d first arrived. Then his focus drifted down to where Grillby’s hands lay, between them Sans’s icy blue ecto-belly was stretched thin enough to clearly see every softly glowing orange egg within. Sans had the ridiculous thought that he looked as if he’d just swallowed a bunch of hot embers.

“… already so full, but I want to see just how many we can fit.”

“my reserves feel pretty full so… way more.” Ectoplasm was pretty forgiving like that.

Grillby moaned, “… not allowed to cum until I say so.”

Sans couldn’t help the shiver of delight that traveled up his spine to lay hot and heavy in his Soul. “o-ok, you’re in charge.”

Grillby hummed in reply, then began laying gentle, chaste kisses on Sans’s head as his hands started massaging slow circles into Sans’s taut belly. It felt really nice, especially with the way the pseudo-flesh kept getting stretched tighter as the pressure built. Well, the belly rub felt nice, the pressure felt good. Really good. The eggs had long since turned into a steady march, an undulation of delicious girth pressed against his walls rhythmically, not to mention the small resistance right at the end where the each egg gave way with a faint, inaudible pop that only added to the comfortable warmth in his belly and just seemed to wind him tighter and tighter. Sans found himself squirming, his phalanges digging into the ephemeral thighs beneath him.

“please?” Sans asked, head craned back to look pleadingly up at Grillby with blown out, hazy eye pips.

“… not yet,” Grillby chided, then hunched forward to kiss Sans right on the forehead. The movement was interesting, the kiss itself was nice and sent a jolt of heat straight to Sans’s Soul, but the way Grillby had to hunch forward caused the eggs to stutter and stall for a moment. Sans didn’t like that, he’d been so close! Not that he was allowed to cum yet, but still.

Grillby started up his kisses and massage again, the eggs resumed their rhythmic march. Each kiss sent a little shot of heat to pool in Sans’s Soul, building alongside the ever growing pressure in his belly. It wasn’t long before he was right back on the edge again, squirming and whimpering from in place in Grillby’s lap.

“grillby, please!” Sans begged breathlessly, his voice all but cracking on the please.

“… not quite yet.”

“please, grillby, pleeeeeaaaaaaaaase! i’m so close, please!”

“… said not yet.”

Sans whimpered and sunk into Grillby’s hold, squirming miserably in place, feet slipping over the pillows and hands flexing against Grillby’s thighs. Sans’s tentacles tingled and sparked where they wound around Grillby’s, every nibble and kiss Grillby was still laying on his skull sent more shots of heat right to his Soul, the building pressure in his belly was weighing hot and heavy on his pelvis, and the eggs were still a steady massage marching him closer and closer to the edge that Grillby still wouldn’t let him tip over yet. “please,” Sans begged shamelessly again, tears gathering in the corners of his eye sockets. He was sure the combination of it all would have him burst at the seems, then Grillby would be disappointed in him for disobeying and somehow the thought alone made Sans want to throw himself in the nearest lake like some lovesick school girl in a cheesy local legend.

“… not much longer, almost there.”

“please,” Sans babbled desperately. He went on to repeat variations of “i’m so close,” “please,” “wanna cum,” and Grillby’s name in an increasingly needy voice. His feet slid and writhed over the slippery pillows, his hands gave up their grip on Grillby’s thighs and moved up to cling to the back of his head, desperately trying to keep his clever tongues near his clavicles and neck.

“… now, cum for me,” Grillby whispered huskily into Sans’s acoustic meatus as a hand delved back into the mass of tentacles not tangled up in Grillby’s. Sans obeyed, back arching and Grillby’s name loud on his own tongues as the last egg squeezed into place to settle with its brethren.

When Sans came back to himself he felt wrung out and hazy headed, like the world was padded in fluffy quilts and he didn’t have to go out and face any harsh realities yet. It was nice, and so was the heat still bubbling in his Soul, not unlike crawling into an oven with a banked fire, embers waiting to be fanned back into an all consuming inferno. He blinked and realized he was looking up at the top of the tent, little pools of sunlight filtered through a canopy of leaves just visible on the fabric. He was laying back, held firmly to Grillby’s chest as the fire monster reclined back into the pillows surrounding them. Laying back like this was nice… except for the fact that something heavy was pressing uncomfortably against his spine and pelvis. Sans made an unhappy sound and tried to move, his limbs flopping uselessly like overcooked noodles.

Grillby made an inquiring noise back.

“heavy,” Sans croaked out. He tried moving again, then realized his own tentacles were still wound up tightly with Grillby’s.

“… let me, they take a while to relax.”

Sans grunted, but let Grillby sit up and rearrange the pillows to something more comfortable. Sans was still leaning back into Grillby for support, but now they were sitting upright enough that the heavy weight of his belly wasn’t torquing his spine.

Grillby started massaging Sans’s belly again. “… look so good like that.”

“yeah?” Sans asked more out of curiosity than anything. No one had ever thought he looked good before, not with the tone Grillby said it.

“… yeah. Stuffed full of my magic, relaxed, sated.”

Sans looked into the mirror at their feet, half surprised it was still there. His magic was glowing cooly, icy blue gathered at every joint and stretched over his bulging middle. It made a really nice contrast with the warm light spilling from both Grillby and the eggs. There seemed to be dozens of them pressed together and easily seen through magic stretched thin. Sans managed to pick up a limp hand and laid in on top, his belly felt warm and taut, the ecto surprisingly sturdy feeling for how tight it was stretched.

Grillby’s hands continued their massage, moving down to where most of the weight settled. Sans groaned in appreciation and let himself sink comfortably back into Grillby’s hold. He kept his eyes on the mirror, it was interesting looking at how their tentacles wound around each other, the play of Grillby’s fiery oranges against Sans’s own icy blues was mesmerizing. And then they reluctantly started to give up their tight grip. They loosely squirmed and relaxed, curling and uncurling.

Grillby moved them again once that happened, simply rolling Sans onto his side then rearranging the pillows yet again to comfortably cradle Sans’s bones. “… get some rest,” Grillby gently ordered. Sans didn’t even take the time to agree, simply slipping off into a deep sleep.

Sans’s eyes blinked slowly open, the light pouring in only aggravating his raging headache. “ugh,” he said eloquently. For some reason he had the mother of all hangovers, and all he’d had at that party was one hamburg steak! Then the memory of everything he’d done hit him and Sans suddenly sat up. The movement was enough to make him dizzy, but he looked down in a panic. He was in his clothes, just as rumpled and sloppily half tucked as they had been before the party. Just to be sure he put a hand up to his relatively flat looking stomach. It felt normal.

Had it all been a dream? Sans finally took in his surroundings, he was back on the main path, just off to the side and out of the way. Just across from him was a familiar patch of wildflowers, the one he’d picked a few flowers from before wandering off down that side path. He turned to look beside him, expecting to find himself just on the mouth of the path, but there was only thick undergrowth around him. Sitting next to him was the basket he’d brought with him, full to overflowing with things he didn’t remember picking. He pulled it closer to look inside. There were berries, mushrooms, more flowers, and even a few wild fruits. Sans would often sample the things he foraged, had he eaten something that gave him a weird dream and a hangover? He didn’t recognize the mushrooms at all, were they even safe to eat?

Sans plucked out the mushrooms and tossed them into the underbrush, he’d worry about the rest when he got home. Which he needed to do soon, the sun had dipped low and the bright summer sunshine had turned to the gold and red hues of sunset. Papyrus must be worried. Sans quickly stood up, then had to put his hand on the nearest tree for support as he struggled to find his balance. His middle felt weird, and his legs and pelvis ached for some reason. He must have slept quite badly while under those mushrooms’ influence. Once he felt stable enough to stand on his own he turned and started hobbling back home along the road.

**Author's Note:**

> Hamburg steak (which is basically like meatloaf???) being served sandwich style wasn’t really recorded until right around the turn of the 19th-20th century, which is a bit later than I want. Let’s just say Grillby’s ahead of his time, or possibly that fae are a bit outside of time. ^_~
> 
> Also I know the fandom likes to make a big deal out of Error’s 5 tongues but like… they’re made of magic??? If they can form any genitals they want why can’t they have as many tongues as they want? Give skeletons more flexible ecto 2021!!! Also: yes, I blatantly stole Sans’s genitalia from one of Keeley’s fics. I saw someone refer to it as a “Charybdis” but I thought it sounded more like a sea anemone, so that’s the mental image I had in mind while writing this.


End file.
